Shinobi philosophy
by billiecody
Summary: Philosophy in the shinobi world - what it all means and what's it all for (from various POVs) First up, Shikamaru. Not the usual fanfiction story, digs a little deeper than that.
1. Shikamaru's Ataraxia

**Shinobi Philosophy**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hey there! As some of you know, I'm a philosophy student. Philosophy, while deemed by many as irrelevant, changes the way you look at the world, including art, media and entertainment. Some people might call that over-analyzing – and to some extent, it's true. However, when you find philosophy peeking in the most unexpected places, you don't necessarily have to attribute that to the author – it's just the way you look at it, the way you see it.

Since I've started watching Naruto (about a year ago, I was a late anime-bloomer) I've finished my freshman year at university. So I decided, equipped with the knowledge I have so far, to do a series of one-shots based on philosophies I picked out that fit into some characters' world view. I know this isn't the normal ubber-popular fanfiction, but what the hell, if there's a fanfiction niche for male-on-male incest, there must be one for this too.

Enjoy (and comment)!

**Shikamaru's**_** Ataraxia**_

Shikamaru doesn't see much point in fighting.

Sure, he'll still do it – he owes it to his village, to Asuma's memory, to his future pupil. But fighting isn't something he values by himself, rather, it seems to be the only way he can honor his bonds to others.

Shikamaru is a mind being, he doesn't care much for physical things. Even his trademark jutsu, shadows, aren't really physical, but immaterial projections of bodies. You aren't alive without a shadow, but shadows aren't life. Shikamaru wins by taking a hold of what people rarely remember exists – busy as they are with life and death, they forget the things beyond that.

Shikamaru feels more alive when his mind is working, when he's presented with an impossible dilemma, a catastrophic request for a strategy, an advice. It's about looking at reality's multiplicity with razor sharp eyes and finding the unity that binds everything. The way all things are connected and can be manipulated to positive results. He enjoys that. Though he isn't too keen on interfering with the way of things – only when doing so will bring considerably best consequences for the people he loves. Otherwise, he's fine with the world the way it is.

Death lurks everywhere for a shinobi. Most of them turn a little bit fanatic in order to deal with the constant threat. They hardly ever consider death, but its consequences to the village. If I die, the mission fails; if I die, my son will be left without a father; if I die, at least I'll die fighting, with honors. Shikamaru was never like this.

Ever since he was a boy, thoughts of death plagued him. Not thoughts of how he would die (and those give most shinobi plenty of nightmares), or how people would take his death (as most people fond of victimization often think), but thoughts about the nature of death. In the shinobi world, people talk about spirits and souls – certainly, there are those, for people are sealed in the strangest places and can even be reborn in different bodies.

"But even so, what happens to me, to my mind, when I die? "

A never ending sleep was atrocious. A paradise, incoherent – as was hell. He'd stay up some nights thinking about this, even though he didn't want to. The fact was that, in order to find the meaning of death, one must first find the meaning of life – and except for village and ninja propaganda of illusions of grandeur, Shikamaru was completely lost.

Strangely, it was clouds who gave him the answer. Clouds, and Chouji – actually, Chouji's appetite.

It was one of those long summer days. His body was a bit sore from training, so, by laying down in the grass, he could feel every bit of his muscle relaxing. Chouji was by his side, eating chips. He seemed happy. Chouji always seemed happy. He didn't think very hard about most things, therefore he was always happy. Seeing that most intellectual activities were the main source of pleasure for Shikamaru, he was always a bit fascinated by this. The pleasure Chouji could take from eating – it was astonishing. Shikamaru bet that, if someone asked Chouji what he thought of death, he'd probably say it was unavoidable (he was always a realist), but he would really miss food.

Shikamaru thought about his. What would he miss? Thinking. However, people didn't think when dead.

He repeated the statement again "People don't think when dead"

For the first time in years, he felt a sort of joy at saying that. At first, it was a prison of anguish; now, it was freedom. Dead don't think. Dead don't feel. Dead don't exist – and neither does death for the living.

He looked up at the clouds, which he envied for their eternal though changing nature, and felt united with the sky. He wouldn't be dead while he was living, and when he died, death would be meaningless. Death had no meaning – and for a second, Shikamaru thought to make the same statement about life.

But, as he layed there in the grass, looking at Chouji's smiling face stuffed with chips, he knew life had meaning. That meaning wasn't heroic or extreme, it wasn't sad or miserable.

No, life had meaning because life had pleasure. Pleasure keeps us alive, gives us a reason to get up in the morning. However, Shikamaru didn't think of pleasure as a physical, intense feeling – no, it was the everyday joys. Everything else was too much, therefore troublesome.

That epiphany wasn't the best one for a ninja. However, it did give Shikamaru a reason to fight and stay alive. He was doing it for the simple pleasure of laying down in the grass looking at the sky, without a single care in the world.

Shikamaru was a shinobi to ensure stability, the same tranquility he loved so much and was often threatened. For the simple pleasures of life, for the absence of pain, for friendship.

Or at least, that's what he liked to think.

Ehehe, I think it's pretty obvious what philosophy I drew upon for Shikamaru. But anyway, I'll post it here:

_**Epicureanism**__is a system of__philosophy__based upon the teachings of__Epicurus__, founded around 307__BC__. Epicurus was an__atomic__materialist__, following in the steps of__Democritus__. His__materialism__led him to a general attack on superstition and divine intervention. Following__Aristippus__—about whom very little is known—Epicurus believed that what he called "pleasure" is the greatest good, but the way to attain such pleasure is to live modestly and to gain knowledge of the workings of the world and the limits of one's desires. This led one to attain a state of tranquility (__ataraxia__) and freedom from fear, as well as absence of bodily pain (__aponia__). The combination of these two states is supposed to constitute happiness in its highest form. Although Epicureanism is a form of__hedonism__, insofar as it declares pleasure to be the sole intrinsic good, its conception of absence of pain as the greatest pleasure and its advocacy of a simple life make it different from "hedonism" as it is commonly understood.(Wikipedia)_


	2. Tsunade's Second Sex

Tsunade is a powerful woman. Everything about her screams intensity and exuberance, from her blonde hair, to her sharp eyes and glorious bosom. Even with certain insecurities and misguided hobbies, she has a certain ability to keep herself standing tall and proud at all times.

When she enters the room, filled with the other kages and respective bodyguards, she cringes a little. Everyone is looking at her; it will take a few seconds before their attention passes from her body to herself. Tsunade holds her breath during these seconds. It feels like she's hated them forever.

Tsunade is a fighter, in more aspects than one. She's not a kunoichi, she's a sannin. She's not a woman, she's a warrior. She carved herself out of the body of an attractive girl – the sort of girl men would love to look at, without paying really much attention. She turned her physical advantages around and put her good features to use as weapons.

One of the reasons Tsunade rejected Jiraiya was his inability to see beyond Tsunade, the woman, or Tsunade, the almost-girlfriend. The only time he looked at her as an equal, as a companion, with a mixture of love and trust, was in the battlefield – there, their relationship was truly one of reciprocity and intensity. However, the minute Jiraiya stopped thinking as a ninja, he was just a pervert, and Tsunade couldn't stand that. It wasn't the perversity per se, but the way he would reduce her to almost nothing and then call it "love".

Jiraiya, Tsunade was convinced, didn't knew much about "love". When they were both older and were reunited as she became hokage, she began to change her mind and appreciate some maturity in Jiraiya. But then he died – and, anyway, by then, Tsunade was already suffering the lost of too many well-loved people in her life.

What attracted Tsunade to Dan was the way he saw her. Basically, Dan saw Tsunade as she chose to be seen – whatever that may be. When she wanted to be sexy and promiscuous, Dan didn't insist on an idealized virginal image; when she wanted to be serious and professional, Dan acted as if the sex was irrelevant; when she wanted to be fragile, he didn't accused her of not holding up her strength. Dan, above all other people, appreciated Tsunade's true power.

And that power was all about choice. Tsunade Hime, rich, beautiful, strong and talented – all doors open. The myriad of people she could have been; the ways in which she could have used or fallen victim of the feminine mystique she's so accused of transpiring.

And yet, what did she chose?

Fight as a beast, cure as an angel. Drink as a prostitute, gamble like a fool. Somewhere between divine and overly human, Tsunade places her choice.

Men always need to make excuses for Tsunade, excuses that eliminate her choices altogether. They're always looking for a way to justify why such a woman managed to be such a kunoichi; wasn't that the man's job, to be supreme and absolute?

When men seek power, Tsunade muses, they can never handle it. Men cut all their connections to the real world, attempt to evade the body, ignore desires of the flesh. Men, in order to be powerful, have to stop being human. Tsunade thinks of Orochimaru, Pein and Madara and snickers – what a pair of amateurs. They fool themselves, thinking they're making a real choice, when actually they're just ripping themselves apart piece by piece, by fear of what they might do with the freedom power brings when balanced with real emotions. God forbid, they might actually arrive to the conclusion that they must be good – what sort of villains would they be then?

Women are different, or at least, that's what men say. Maybe that's why they've always been dragged to the shadows, forever coming second. They've been so concerned on how to be a REAL woman, they never realized that being a woman is just like being human – it all depends on choice.

Well, not anymore.

Tsunade looks around. There's the Mizukage, Temari, Kurotsuchi – a new generation. Do the men in their lives still look at them simply as women, or have they learned that comes in second place? That being a woman isn't something to be proud of or admired, but simply something to be chosen and perfected? God knows she's still trying to teach that to Sakura and Ino (Tenten got the message soon enough and Hinata has first to learn how to _be_, period)

Tsunade is powerful because Tsunade is conscious of her choices. Tsunade is everything she wishes to be and more. Tsunade isn't a pretty reflection. And, most of all, Tsunade isn't perfect and is fine with that – It's her choice to be that way, after all.

A little bit of existential feminism for you, mainly based on Simone de Beauvoir – the second sex. I've always loved Tsunade's character (and Jiraiya's too), so I thought I could link her with one of the most aggressive female philosophers.

" Beauvoir argued that men had made women the "Other" in society by putting a false aura of "mystery" around them. She argued that men used this as an excuse not to understand women or their problems and not to help them, and that this stereotyping was always done in societies by the group higher in the hierarchy to the group lower in the hierarchy.(…)_ The Second Sex_, published in French, sets out a feminist existentialism which prescribes a moral revolution. As an existentialist, Beauvoir believed that existence precedes essence; hence one is not born a woman, but becomes one. (…)Beauvoir asserted that women are as capable of choice as men, and thus can choose to elevate themselves, moving beyond the immanence to which they were previously resigned and reaching transcendence, a position in which one takes responsibility for oneself and the world, where one chooses one's freedom." (Wikipedia)


End file.
